4. Four
FOUR
Seeing Huxley was like having the oxygen sucked out of my lungs. I forgot how to breathe and focused my attention on the menu.
What was he doing here?
Was he living here now?
Oh, man, why?
Maybe he was just visiting. That would be the best thing for me. Yes, he was just visiting. That had to be it.
Conversation had picked up at the table by the time I got myself under control, but I blurted over them without thinking. “How long are you in town?”
Nobody else made the mistake of thinking I was talking to them. All eyes turned to Huxley to see how he would respond.
“I live here,” he replied. That was it. That was all he said.
“He bought my house,” a blonde offered. I knew her face because of the fanfare her marriage had gotten in the author world. When two of our own fell in love, it was treated like a real-life romance book. Bree and her husband, Brody, were essentially famous.
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to make of that, so I went back to looking at the menu. Suddenly, I had no appetite. I would eat regardless, but I wouldn’t enjoy it.
“Bree is the one I told you about,” Bella said in a gentle voice from my right. She looked legitimately worried. “The one who had the fight with the HOA.”
“Okay.” I smiled encouragingly. “That sounds great.”
Bella’s face was blank at my response, as if I’d said words in a different language. For Huxley’s sake, he was lucky it wasn’t Klingon, which I was prone to using whenever I was feeling overwhelmed. Like now. I was definitely feeling overwhelmed.
“What about you?” Huxley asked. “Are you just visiting?” He looked hopeful.
I shook my head. “I just took over the lease on Bella’s old place. I’m here for at least nine months.”
“I see.”
Thankfully, the server picked that moment to deliver the drinks that had been ordered.
It allowed me to regulate my breathing. Huxley had always had this effect on me.
I’d crushed on him hard as a teenager — not that he’d ever noticed — and I turned into a babbling idiot whenever I was in his presence.
That was before the Austin incident. I hadn’t seen him since, other than on my television screen when they did a story about his romance success, or in a newspaper article.
I didn’t listen to what the others ordered. When the server got to me, I wasn’t prepared. I ordered the first thing I saw on the menu.
“I’ll have the Beef Tell-Tale Heart.”
Bella shot me an odd look. “You want an egg sandwich? I’ve never even seen you eat eggs.”
It was true I preferred French toast and pancakes for breakfast, but I’d eaten eggs before. That didn’t mean I wanted an egg sandwich now. “Oh, um …”
Bella took pity on me and took the menu. “She’ll have the Beef Pit in case you’re just figuring that out.”
“It’s okay,” Bree assured me. “I’m the same way. You don’t have to talk to him or anything.”
“That would be kind of weird, wouldn’t it?”
Bree shrugged. “I avoided talking to Brody as much as possible when I first met him.”
“You did?” How did that work? They were married now. “Well, I was falling in love with him and didn’t want to admit it. Our situations might not be exactly alike, but it’s okay. You don’t have to spend time with him.”
“But … the reader event.” This was an event that had been organized by multiple publishers. It was a big deal. It was so successful that it was being used as a template in other markets. “I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You won’t.” Bree waved her hand. “The events are set up so you guys don’t have to be anywhere near one another. It will be fine. I promise.”
That was a relief. I didn’t want to cause problems. Huxley was a much bigger author than I was. He would be the one placated if it came to making a choice.
“Just one thing, though,” Bree said, her eyes clear when they locked with mine. “Did you and he ever … you know?”
My mind was a blank. “I know what?”
“You know,” she insisted.
I blinked but didn’t respond.
She let out an exasperated sigh. “You know, bump uglies, make the beast with two backs, grind the corn.”
“She’s asking if you had sex with him,” Bella interjected. “She’s just doing it in a very juvenile manner.”
The fog in my brain cleared. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I was just asking.” Bree smirked. “It was a very interesting reaction, from both of you.”
“I was a teenager,” I reminded her.
“Unless I’m mistaken, teenagers have sex. That’s one of their favorite things to do.”
“Well, we didn’t.” Just trying to think about something like that happening back then made me want to hyperventilate. It was ridiculous. “He didn’t even know I was alive back then.”
“I was just checking.” Bree held up her hands in supplication.
“It will be fine,” Bella reiterated. “You guys were both shocked. Now you’ll settle, and it won’t be a big deal.”
I hoped beyond hope she was right. Nothing ever felt settled when I was around Huxley Ambrose, however. He’d always done weird things to my insides.
“It will be fine,” I repeated because it seemed to be expected. “It’s not a big deal at all.”
THE REST OF DINNER WENT SMOOTHLY, or as smoothly as it could after our ridiculous reintroduction. We were careful not to make eye contact over the meal, although I swore I felt his gaze on me when I wasn’t looking a few times. That was probably my imagination, I told myself.
The conversation revolved around the reader event and what to expect, so I was fairly calm when it came time to start interacting with the attendees.
I’d been told — on more than one occasion — that I had a natural gift for gab.
That was how my mother referred to it anyway.
Personally, I didn’t think babbling was a gift, but it always seemed to work out in my favor, for some reason.
People found it charming even though, deep down, I knew I was an absolute moron at times.
The readers seemed to like it.
Bree and Bella made sure my station was close to where they were sitting, so if I had questions, they would be close to answer them, or smooth over any potential snafus that might crop up.
The men took up stations on the other side of the outdoor space, probably because they wanted to grill Huxley as Bree and Bella had grilled me, but the distance allowed me to breathe and relax.
I enjoyed interacting with fans. I wanted to know what made them tick, what got them excited, and what they saw for the characters when they opened up their imaginations.
Bella was more like me. She liked hearing how the readers would have done things differently.
Bree was exactly the opposite, though. She groused — and more than once — that if the readers wanted to rewrite the stories, they could write their own damned books.